


What Stays and What Fades Away

by LandofWordsandNonsense (RiaHawk)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Disabled Character, Gen, Modern w/ Magic AU, Roommates, Swearing, disabled Molly, ghost story, tags to be added as story progresses, welcome to Molly's super fucking haunted house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiaHawk/pseuds/LandofWordsandNonsense
Summary: The rental was too good to be true; a fully furnished four bedroom house in a decent neighborhood at an astonishingly low rent. They knew there had to be some kind of catch somewhere, but with the end of their lease fast approaching, Molly, Beau and Yasha didn't really have a whole lot of options. But they could afford it, so they made up their minds to deal with whatever the problem turned out to be.Of course, of all the problems it could have turned out to be, this was not what they had been expecting.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Mollymauk Tealeaf, Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Mollymauk Tealeaf & Yasha
Comments: 15
Kudos: 93





	1. House for Rent, Detached, Four Bedroom

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to post at least part of this as I've been hanging onto it for a while and this might motivate me to finish it. Just an idea that occurred to me and then devoured my brain for a while. Partly because I do like me a ghost story and partly because at the time I had to move and was pissed off about it.

"Huh. Now this might be possible, if it's not fake." Molly leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrow at the laptop screen. "Beau~ C'mere~"

Beau made an annoyed sound. "Gimme a minute, this asshole's trying to rip my face off..." She was sitting cross-legged on the beat up, sagging sofa, with the video game controller in her lap. Molly hummed amicably over the sound of the fighting game she was currently involved in. A few minutes passed, then Beau swore loudly as the tv announced _'FATALITY!'_ in a gravelly voice. "Fuckin' cheap ass teleporting asshole-" she grumbled under her breath. She put the controller down and stretched. "What's up?" She leaned over his shoulder, and he squawked a little as his chair tilted back a bit too far unexpectedly.

"Gah! Don't DO that!" She rolled her eyes as he smacked her with his tail and let him straighten up a little. "I was looking at the rental website again, and I found this~" He tapped his screen, showing the page he'd pulled up.

Beau frowned, reading it. "House for rent, detached, four bedroom-" She shook her head. "We can't fucking afford this, Molly. We can't even afford a _two_ bedroom _apartment_." Which was, of course, the reason he'd been looking at the rentals to begin with. Their rent was going up in two months, and even with two and a half salaries, they'd barely been making it as it was. Not to mention, the one bedroom apartment they were currently sharing was too goddamn small for three people, even if Yasha wasn't around half the time.

Molly smirked. "Check the rent listed."

Beau's eyes traveled to the box that displayed the rent. "Fuck," she said, blinking. "That can't be right, it's _got_ to be some kind of error. Refresh the page."

He did, but the rent price didn't change. "It's less than we're paying now. And it's big enough that we'd have enough rooms for everyone, including Jester and Fjord when they come back from their studying abroad thing. It's fully furnished, too. Though at this point, an air mattress on the floor would be better than sleeping on the couch."

Beau rolled her eyes. "I told you before. I'm fine with the couch. It doesn't fuck me up the way it does you." The original arrangement had been that they'd swap out and take turns sleeping on their shitty sofa, but that had only lasted until Molly had a particularly bad flare up that left him practically unable to move for a day and a half. Then she'd called him a dumbass and said she'd take the sofa and he wasn't allowed to argue about it.

And to be fair, the sofa _was_ terrible for him. But it couldn't be much better for Beau either, it was honestly probably well past its expiration date. "...Well, it won't survive a move anyway."

Beau snorted. "Okay, I'll give you that one. But that's beside the point. The rent for this place _can't_ be that low. They had to have left a one or a two off the front of it."

Molly grinned, his tail lashing in amusement. "Well, there's one way to find out. There's a number to call. The fuck else have I got to do~?"

"...Don't you have to leave for work in like half an hour? And it takes you forty five minutes to get ready?"

Molly shook his head. "Nah. This is my three day week." Which he _absolutely_ wasn't complaining about, he knew he was goddamned lucky to have a boss who was willing to accommodate him. But a part time job as relief bartender did not come with a significant income. That was part of the problem. He found his cell phone and dialed. Admittedly, Beau was probably right and it was some sort of error in the listing. But he was feeling particularly stubborn and didn't want to give up just yet. He'd just have to find some way of avoiding the 'I told you so' later. Or just embrace the inevitable snarkfest.

The call picked up on the other end. _"You have reached the office of Tempest Law,"_ an entirely too chipper receptionist said in his ear. _"How may I direct your call?"_

Molly's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, and he turned to give Beau an incredulous look. "It's a lawyer?"

Beau raised an eyebrow as well, then shook her head before heading into the kitchen. "I'm tellin' you, we can't afford it, dude."

_"Hello?"_

Molly jumped, then turned his attention back to the call. "Ah, sorry. I'm calling about the house for rent?" He read the address off carefully. "This was the number on the listing..."

_"One moment please~"_ Soft instrumental music took over the line, and he found himself impressed that it was actually music produced by actual musicians, rather than the canned muzak that always managed to hit somewhere in the uncanny valley.

He looked up at Beau as she returned with a beer. "It's the right number, anyway, or at least the receptionist seemed to know what I was talking about."

"I guess it's your time to waste," she said, leaning against the battered kitchen table that served as their communal desk.

He grinned shamelessly. "Damn right~" He was about to make some sort of smart ass comment about it when the hold music cut and a mellow, cultured male voice picked up.

_"Shakäste speaking. I understand you're calling about a property I've listed as a rental?"_

"Yes. The four bedroom house." He gave the address again, automatically trying to match the lawyer's level of charm. "I saw it on the website, but-" and here he glanced at Beau with an exaggeratedly sarcastic expression "-it looks like there might be an error on the rent you're asking, so I thought I'd call and find out."

He could hear papers shuffling on the other end. _"I've listed that property at the request of one of my clients; the owner is largely concerned with having the house occupied in order to keep it maintained and prevent vandalism. The rent should be listed at five hundred per month."_

Molly stared at his phone incredulously. "Then that's right then." Beau did a spit-take as she nearly choked on her beer.

The lawyer's voice sounded amused. _"It is. Are you interested in seeing the property?"_

"Are we interested in seeing it?" He looked up at Beau, who was trying to wipe the beer off her shirt.

"It's going to be a meth lab," she said in an undertone. "Or it'll be just off of Murder Alley."

Molly thought about that. For about twenty six seconds. Then he grinned. Oh what the hell~ "Sure. How do we go about doing that~?"

More papers shuffled. _"I have an appointment at three, but if you have time today, I could show you the property at four."_

What the hell. They were both off today, and he knew for a fact that Beau didn't have anything more pressing to do than challenging a palette swap ninja to a rematch. And they were _theoretically_ functional adults who should be doing something about finding a new place that wasn't charging exorbitant rent. "Four's good. We'll meet you there, I guess?"

_"That's the general idea. And your name is-?"_

"Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends~" Beau rolled her eyes.

_"I look forward to meeting you then, Mr. Tealeaf."_ Then the line hummed as the call disconnected.

Molly gave Beau an absolutely unapologetic shit-eating grin, and she responded with a glare. "...He's gonna turn out to be a serial killer or something. You know that."

* * *

He and Beau had taken the bus across town to the address. It was a surprisingly nice and quiet neighborhood, and the bus stop on this street was three blocks closer than the one at the apartment. The house itself proved to be a modest two story brick affair, with a covered front porch and a stone pathway up to the front steps. Beau blinked at it. "...This looks like something off a greeting card." She turned to Molly. "There's a fucking _porch swing_ ," she said in a stage whisper.

"So much for a meth lab~"

She might have punched him if a car hadn't pulled up in the street in front of the house. It idled there for a few moments, then someone got out of the back seat and came over to them, extending his hand with an ever so slightly sardonic smile that Molly liked immensely. "Mr. Tealeaf? I'm Shakäste."

Shakäste was not, as it happened, a serial killer. Or if he was, he clearly wasn't planning on doing anything about it today. No one with tailoring that sharp was going to ruin the line of his suit trying to take on a violent asshole with three inches and about thirty-five years on him. Or even a sarcastic asshole with five inches and a dubious amount of years on him.

The lawyer proved to be a classy motherfucker, almost old enough to be considered elderly but not quite, and almost unfairly attractive. He was leaning on an ebony cane that looked suspiciously like it was chosen to coordinate with the suit. Honestly though, the most surprising part of his appearance were his solid white eyes. Molly had wondered if it was contacts, given that he seemed to have absolutely no trouble getting around, until he spotted the tiny little hummingbird perched in the man's frizzy white afro. He knew enough to know that unusual animals hanging out with people in somewhat unusual positions were usually familiars, and that explained that.

Molly grinned, and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you~ I'm Molly, and this is my roommate Beau Lionett."

"...Just Beau," she said awkwardly.

Shakäste nodded. "Pleasure to meet you both. I suppose you'd like to see the house now?"

Beau nodded, still a little out of her element. "Uh, sure. That's why we're here, I guess."

He nodded, produced a single key on a keychain shaped like a cat, then moved past them to unlock the door. "Take all the time you want," he said.

Beau didn't move at first, still staring up at the house. "This is just too _weird_ ," she muttered. "There's no _way_ a house this nice is renting for just five hundred. There's got to be some sort of catch."

"Oh definitely, but we might as well look at it," Molly said, pushing her ahead of him.

The interior of the house proved to be about what they expected from the exterior. Somewhat old fashioned decor, hardwood floors with faded rugs. The door opened up into a hallway, with a staircase and a polished wooden banister going up to the second floor. An archway opened up on one side, leading to what looked like a living room or possibly a former dining room that had been used as a living room. A large kitchen was barely visible on the far side. The other side of the hallway had two closed doors leading to other rooms.

Beau wandered in, whistling a little despite herself. Molly, meanwhile, eyed the staircase uncertainly. "...Not a fan of that." Ever since the wreck, stairs fucked with him. A couple of steps up or down was okay, but... He could manage stairs, but it wasn't _fun_.

Shakäste moved out of the doorway. "One of the bedrooms is on this floor at the back of the hall. Unless you're talking about the way it looks, in which case, if the owner accepts your rental application, part of the lease agreement is that you can change any of the decor you like short of actual structural changes, save for the study. That's to be left as is."

Molly blinked. "Study?"

"This door." Shakäste pushed the closer door opposite the living area open. The study proved to be a cozy room, lined with packed bookshelves. A roll-top desk was tucked next to the window, papers scattered across the surface. There was a fireplace in this room, with a very comfortable looking armchair nearby, next to an end table with a minimalist lamp. A matching sofa had somehow been squeezed in parallel to the wall. There was some sort of long table arranged behind it, with more stacks of books on top of it. It almost should have made the room feel cramped, but it didn't.

Molly wandered in, looking around. "Huh. It's not bad, really..." He wandered over to the fireplace, looking at the understated decorations. The color scheme was a little too muted for his taste, too many neutral tones, but he could see how this would be a nice place to relax in, for a certain kind of person. Yasha would probably like it.

Suddenly, as he took another step forward towards the fireplace, a wave of nausea hit him, and he felt too hot, like he was standing under the exhaust vent of the ice machine at work when the AC was busted. It was so hot he almost couldn't breathe, and he staggered back a few steps as his balance went funny on him.

Fortunately, he caught himself on the arm of the sofa before he could fall, his tail going out rigid behind him to try to stabilize himself. The moment passed as quickly as it had come, and he rubbed his face and shook his head after a moment, blinking rapidly. "...Okay then."

"You okay, son?" Oh, right, Shakäste had followed him in. He sounded a little concerned.

Molly gave him one of his patented dazzling bullshit smiles. "Oh, I'm fine. It just happens sometimes." Damn long-term complications.

"Well, I suppose you know best," Shakäste said after a moment. "You probably want to look at the rest of the house."

"Hm? Oh, sure, no problem~!" He started back into the main hallway. He was already halfway to the next door down, to the bedroom on this floor and didn't see the way Shakäste turned back to the spot before the fireplace Molly had just been standing in as the hummingbird nestled in his hair peeped at him nervously.

"It's all right, Grand Duchess," Shakäste said softly, reaching up to stroke the tiny bird with a single finger. "He's not gonna hurt us, baby." Then he turned to follow Molly.

A faint wisp of smoke, barely discernible in the afternoon sunlight, curled up from the rug and disappeared.

\-----------------------------------------------

Beau and Molly were standing on the porch talking quietly between themselves. "...I _still_ say it's weird," Beau said, glancing back at the house. "It's a nice house in a decent neighborhood. It's fully furnished. Fuck, there's a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms big enough Yasha wouldn't have to twist into a pretzel. It's cheaper than our piece of shit one bedroom apartment. How the _fuck_ is it still on the market!?"

Molly shrugged. "Could be we're just the first ones who saw it."

"Since when do we have luck _that_ good?"

"...Well, we could always ask~" Molly said, grinning and his tail flicking coyly.

"...Sure. Go for it," Beau said, leaning against the wall.

Molly nodded and turned to Shakäste, who appeared to be saying something to his driver, who was still in the car. The lawyer turned as Molly reached him. "So~" Molly said cheerfully. "Which room was the murder in?"

Behind him, Beau facepalmed.

Shakäste just gave him an annoyed look. "There wasn't any murder here, Mr. Tealeaf. Why would you even think there was?"

He flung his arms out in an elaborate shrug, his tail waving expressively behind him. "Mostly because of what they say about things that are too good to be true. This place is way too good of a deal to still be empty, so something's going on to make it less attractive. Us, now, we're willing to put up with a _lot_ of bullshit, as long as we know what the bullshit _is_. So what is it~? Someone steals the mail regularly? Barking dogs? Backed up sewer? Someone, gods forbid, playing _tuba_ next door?"

"Nothing of the kind, I assure you," Shakäste said smoothly. "As it happens, the owner is rather eccentric and is very particular about the people I'm allowed to rent to. So far, none of the potential renters have met the rather exacting specifications. That's all."

Molly let his arms drop. "Huh. Well. Can't say that any of us are good at meeting exacting specifications. We’re all kind of fuckups, really. So I guess we'll just be going. Thank you for your time."

Shakäste gave him a slight smile. "I said my client is eccentric. So are the qualifications demanded of a potential renter. Go ahead and fill out an application, you might be surprised."

Molly blinked at him. "...Okay. Sure, why not." Shakäste nodded, and turned to the car to produce his briefcase, which he set on the trunk lid and started shuffling through, eventually producing the paperwork and a pen.

While the two of them had been distracted, Beau had been looking around restlessly, trying to pinpoint what was still rubbing her the wrong way. Besides the weirdness of it all. As she did, her glance happened to fall on something behind one of the shrubs against the house.

Something moved.

She scowled, and moved to go investigate it. She caught a glimpse of something small and green as it darted away. And now she was interested, and pursued it. This time, she caught sight of a torn, notched pointed ear as the thing scurried to the other side of the house. Before it could get too far away, Beau just jumped over the slightly bedraggled looking hedge to cut the distance, and zipped around the corner.

She stopped when she saw what was unmistakably a goblin trying to jump up to get over the fence. And she probably should have called the fucking cops about it, but as far as she could tell they hadn't _done_ anything. They were shabby, sure, but hell, so was she sometimes. And she hated the fucking cops anyway. So she thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. "Not my problem."

Then she turned to go back around to the front, just as Molly yelled for her. "Beau! Come fill this out, your handwriting is better than mine, it's actually legible. I'll sign it after." She jogged over to Shakäste's car. As she reached it, she caught Molly's elbow and murmured in his ear about what she'd seen. He blinked at her, then wandered around to see for himself as she started filling out the paperwork.

"We've got a third housemate but she's out of town right now, is it okay if I fill her info in for her?"

"Of course, I don't see any problem with that."

Molly wandered around to the back of the house, where the goblin had given up trying to get over the fence and was leaning against the side of the house, taking a gulp from what seemed like a comically oversized flask. They squeaked when he came around the corner and huddled into themself fearfully, but didn't attack. Molly just studied them for a moment, eying the ragged clothes and wrappings that made a poor attempt at hiding what they were at first glance. There was what looked like a porcelain mask hanging around their neck.

A lot of people would have called them vermin, and thrown rocks or less pleasant things, or even taken a potshot at them, or called the police. But Molly prided himself on being unlike most people, and anyway, everyone was just trying to make it in this world. So after a moment, he just grinned a little, and jerked a thumb at the house next door. "Looked like the people next door weren't home when we came up, and they've got one of those big box hedges you wouldn't even have to duck much behind if you wanted to cut through their yard. Normally I'd give you some coin, but I need it all for bus fare right now." Then he turned on his heel, and headed back out front unconcernedly to go sign the papers, with his hands in his pockets and whistling dreadfully out of key.

* * *

Shakäste settled into the back seat of his car, slipping the completed applications into his briefcase. It was a formality, really, and a means of getting contact information; this was more complicated than simple background checks and credit reports. The human and tiefling had already started walking up the street in the direction of the bus stop, talking amongst themselves.

Which was for the best.

His driver drummed her hands on the wheel a little nervously, while he just sat there patiently. They didn't have to wait long. Just after the two potential renters had moved out of sight, the backseat door on the other side opened and a tiny figure clambered in. She quickly pulled the door shut and then made her way up onto the seat beside Shakäste, taking a long pull from her flask.

"Did you get a good look at them, Nott?"

"I think so. And they got a good look at me. Neither of them cared. The purple one even told me it was safe to cut through the neighbor's yard. What did you think?"

Shakäste shrugged. "They seemed like decent people. Maybe not quite _good_ people, and they're rough around the edges, but they seemed decent enough. The tiefling had a spell in the study where I thought he was going to fall over, but he said it happened sometimes, so I don't know if it means anything."

"In the study?" Nott peered up at him with tired, lonely eyes. "Did you-"

"Now you know I didn't see anything, Nott." He patted her head. "The Grand Duchess was nervous though."

"Do you think it's okay?"

"I can't answer that for you. All I can do is advise you. And the advice I have is that they're the best ones we've seen yet and the only ones that passed your test. But you're the one that's got to make the decision. It's your house."

"...Not really," she said sadly, pulling her knees up to her chest. "But... they can stay there. It's okay. If they don't mind a goblin, I don't mind them being there." She sighed, and took another gulp from her flask. "And maybe... maybe now he won't be lonely."


	2. Moving Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To their surprise, their application was accepted... but of course that means moving.

They were both surprised when Shakäste called them three days later to say that their application to rent had been accepted, and to work out what the best move-in date would be. Beau had handled that call; she was better at getting shit organized than Molly was.

She still thought there was something screwy going on that was probably going to bite them in the ass, but she was also painfully aware that they were never going to find anything remotely close to a better deal. They probably wouldn't be able to find anything else that was even fucking _doable_ at this stage. So she just made up her mind that they'd deal with whatever the bullshit turned out to be.

"-so he said we can move in on the ninth, that'll give us enough time to tell the shitheads in the office that we're leaving, and we won't get hit with a break-lease fee." Beau was sitting on the sofa at one end, devouring the sandwich she'd picked up on the way home after work. "It'll be a little tight, I think, right at that point, since there's a security deposit and the first month's rent. But I think we can get everything we want to take into Fjord's pickup and Yasha's SUV if she's back by then. And I guess if she's not we can do multiple trips. But we shouldn't have to rent a truck, so that's something we won't have to pay for."

Molly was in the bathroom with the door open, getting ready before he headed out for his shift at the bar. "She ought to be back, I think, she texted me that they should be wrapping up in Port Damali in a week or two. And she ought to have all kinds of overtime on her next check, after the mess the hurricane made. So it might not be that tight. But we'll work it out~" He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it artfully mussed, then started putting on his horn jewelry. "I'll see if I can't snag the boxes we get the liquor shipments in one of the nights you pick me up. They're a useful size, but it'll be a pain in the ass on the bus." It actually worked out pretty well for them that Fjord had left Beau his car keys. The idea was that she'd drive it periodically to make sure the battery wouldn't flatline while he was on his maritime history thing for a year. Turned out it was damned convenient to have a vehicle sometimes.

Beau grinned. "And maybe some of the liquor too~?"

"Alas, no," Molly sighed theatrically. "One of the fuckheads on day shift ruined it for everyone, and Gustav had to say we couldn't loot the overstock anymore."

"That fucking sucks."

"It really does," Molly said as he secured the last chain. "I may have theoretically encouraged Mona and Yuli to slash the chucklefuck's tires."

Beau sprawled over the sofa, setting the plastic box her sandwich had come in on the floor. "Theoretically," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, they didn't need much encouragement, really..."

"They're the twins you told me about, right?" Molly hummed an affirmative as he came out of the bathroom, casting about for his jacket. "I bet they didn't," she snickered.

Molly found his jacket and slipped it on, then shoved his wallet into the back pocket of his black jeans. "Okay, so, I'm out. I'll try not to wake you up when I get home this time~"

"You're a fuckin' liar," she said, though there was well-hidden fondness in the words, like siblings giving each other shit for no real reason other than they're siblings. "You do it on purpose."

"You wound me~! I can't believe you think so little of me~" he grinned, and flipped her off. "I gotta go or I'll miss the bus. Later." He paused in front of the door, making sure he had his phone and his keys.

Beau flipped him off as well, then happened to glance over at the table. "Ah, hang on a sec." She reached over for the prescription bottle she'd just seen. "If you're taking the bus, you're gonna want these..." She tossed Molly's pain meds to him, and he caught them with a grin.

"Thanks, unpleasant one~ You're a lifesaver~"

* * *

The next thirty days passed a little too quickly. Moving was a chaotic affair at the best of times, and none of them were particularly _good_ at planning more than a few days in advance. Molly did a lot of the packing, as he was home more than Beau, but he wasn't all that great at it. It helped immensely when Yasha came back two weeks in; she was used to finding ways of maximizing space and getting a lot of shit into a small package. It also helped that their shitty third hand furniture was getting dumped; the only big piece worth getting out of their cramped apartment and into the bed of the pickup was the dresser that Yasha had built for Molly two years ago. The kitchen table was still serviceable, even if it was scarred and dented all to hell, but there was a much nicer kitchen table already in the house. This one would be left outside with a note that it was free to a good home. They didn't really have much in the way of shelving; it was more plastic storage bins with lids and a couple of flatpack shelving units that were coming apart. The less said about the bed and the couch the better.

But there was still a lot to be done, and they were all basically disasters in one way or another. Even with Yasha's help, they still hadn't quite finished packing by the time moving day rolled around.

Which meant that things were way more chaotic than usual. They'd all barely slept the night before, and erupted awake early to finish jamming everything in boxes, get everything loaded into the two trucks, and do a last minute cleaning spree of the apartment. It was decided that Beau would go on ahead in the pickup to meet Shakäste to get the keys and pay the deposit and first month's rent and other official things, while Yasha and Molly waited for someone from the office to come do the final inspection.

They were sitting on the floor of the empty apartment, with Molly braiding Yasha's hair as she studied a crack in the wall. "...I should have patched that."

"Fuck no. That was here when we got here and I have pics to prove it," Molly said, patting her shoulder. "Don't do their work for them, darling. Especially after they've been such assholes to us."

"...I think they're assholes. To... basically everyone." she said after a moment.

"You might be right." Molly leaned forward to give her a kiss on the cheek. "At any rate I'll be glad to see the last of this dump."

"...I will too. The pictures of the house looked nice." She hadn't gotten a chance to see the house itself, but both Beau and Molly had taken plenty of pictures to send to her. "Even if Beau thinks there's something wrong with it."

"Oh, I do too," Molly said cheerfully. "It's way too good of a deal for there not to be. Five hundred a month for a four bedroom house that comes furnished? There's something going on there. But you know, just about anything would be a step up from this place."

"I suppose that's true," Yasha said after a moment. "And we can put up with a lot."

"We certainly can~"

Yasha hummed. "Do you think it might be the goblin?"

"Well, I guess some people might say a goblin lurking about might lower the property value. But they didn't seem to be up to any mischief, and I can't say I really give a shit~" He grinned. "I don't think Beau did either. So if that is what it is, then, hell, we're getting off easy~"

Yasha nodded, and started to say something else, but was interrupted by the lady from the office arriving to inspect the apartment. Molly was glad that it was impossible for most people to tell he was rolling his eyes unless they were paying attention. He remembered this woman from handing over the rent check a few times, and she had some weird grudge against tieflings. Doubtless if he'd been here alone there would have been some unfortunate words exchanged.

But that's why Yasha was here. She was suitably intimidating enough that the inspection was quick and businesslike, even if Molly did have to produce the pictures he'd taken to prove the crack in the wall had always been there.

* * *

The pickup truck was parked on the sidewalk in front of the house when they got there, and Beau was just coming out of the open door to get another box. Yasha parked behind the pickup, and she and Molly got out to start helping as well.

"Any trouble?" Beau asked as Yasha hefted one of the larger boxes.

Molly shrugged. "I think they're gonna try to keep our deposit because of that fucking cracked wall." He pulled a smaller box out to carry in.

"The one that was there since before you moved in?" Molly nodded. "Mother _fuckers_!"

"Yes, well, that's part of why we're moving."

Moving in was about as chaotic as moving out had been, with the three of them dodging around each other, bringing boxes in and trying to figure out where they needed to go. How did they even _have_ this much stuff? And it didn't help that by the end, they had just been cramming things into boxes willy nilly, and there was no telling where stuff had ended up.

They'd been at it for a couple of hours when Yasha came in carrying their ancient television to find Molly standing in the front hall, staring into the middle distance and leaning on the small side table that would probably end up collecting all their keys and mail, with his tail wrapped around the table leg and an expression that meant the world was going sideways on him. Yasha immediately put the tv down where Beau wouldn't trip on it, and gently put her hands on Molly's shoulders. "Molly?"

His gaze shifted to her with such difficulty that she knew he wasn't focusing on her properly. He hummed a little at his name and swayed under the slight pressure on his shoulders.

She frowned. She had a pretty good idea of what was going on, but checked anyway. "Is everything too bright again?"

"...Yeah. And... and... 'm dizzy." He reached out fumblingly to grab a handful of her shirt.

She nodded. "Okay." She glanced over into the living room. "Beau."

Beau looked up from the space she was clearing off on a cabinet where they planned to put the tv. "Yeah?" Then she blinked as she spotted them. "Uh oh."

"He forgot his meds this morning. They should be in your backpack with yours. Can you get them and some water, please?"

"Sure. I forget, does he need to eat something with them?"

"Probably, but he never does, so it'll be okay."

Beau nodded, and dug the pill bottle out of her backpack. "It's not the- no, okay, it's the other one, here it is." They had done a few smart things, which included bringing plastic cups to use until they got their dishes unpacked. So it only took a couple of minutes for Beau to join them in the hall with the requested items. Yasha had been gently rubbing circles in Molly's back, and he made a protesting sound when she stopped to open the bottle.

"Molly, you need to take this," she said, putting the pills in his hand. He made a face, but put them in his mouth, then took the water Beau handed him. "Okay."

"I think this is the first time he's missed his meds since I moved in with you guys... I guess cuz the routine got fucked up?" Beau took the empty cup back.

Yasha hummed as she carefully took both of Molly's hands in hers to steady him. "Probably. Do you want a nap or to just sit with us while we get the trucks unloaded?"

Molly considered that. "...Nap."

"Okay. You're going to have to unwind your tail."

He looked down, his balance visibly off, then managed to uncurl his tail from the table leg after a moment.

"There's a couch in the study, and we weren't going to put anything in there, it’ll be quiet," Beau said, pushing the door open. "Through here."

Yasha carefully moved backwards, still holding Molly's hands to stabilize him as she led him to the door Beau had opened. His tail had found its way around her wrist, and even with her support he was stumbling a bit. But Yasha managed to get him to the couch without incident, and settled him on it. "We'll be in the other room when you wake up, okay?"

He nodded, curling up on his side, his tail draped over his leg. "Mkay." He waved vaguely at them and mumbled something incoherent as they turned the lights off and left. He was out like a light within three minutes.

* * *

_He was in a dark place, but he wasn't alone. There was someone else nearby. Not anyone he needed to worry about, they were minding their own business. He looked around curiously, and presently saw a faint flickering glimmer, like the last coal in the fireplace. He started towards it._

_He'd gotten close enough to make out the outline of someone else, apparently seated when abruptly the atmosphere changed. It was suddenly laced with terror and a sense of violated sanctuary, and an overwhelming urge to run. The seated figure abruptly sprang to their feet, and seemed to be saying something, though he was too far away to make out the words. They felt highly agitated, and without thinking, he lunged forward, closing the distance. He wasn't sure what he was planning to do, but he had the distinct impression that the dimly outlined figure needed help. He got close enough that he was able to make out one of the sentences the figure snapped out, though he absolutely didn't understand it._

_"_ Geh zum Teufel _." Then the flickering ember roared into life and a trail of fire swept out in an arc, separating him and the silhouetted figure from a third, invisible presence that radiated malice. The wall of fire raged out of control and red and orange flames flared brighter until they were a white glare that consumed everything._

_"Nott, run!"_

* * *

Molly's eyes snapped open, and the white glare receded until it was just the lights in the study that Yasha had just flipped on. Molly blinked a few times, then rubbed his face a bit and sat up.

"How are you feeling?" Yasha asked softly, sitting next to him.

"...Better," he said, leaning against her, his tail twitching a little. "Sorry I've been useless for... however long it was."

"A couple hours. It's okay. We'd gotten most of the downstairs stuff in when you had to stop." She eyed his tail, and the way the tip was flicking in agitation. "Really, are you okay? You seem a little upset?"

He rubbed his face again. "Just weird dreams. I blame taking shit too late and the fact that moving is stressful. What's up?"

Yasha rubbed his back. "Everything's in and we've made a start unpacking, but we just realized that Beau hasn't eaten in six hours and she's getting... wobbly. So we're going to get food. Do you want to come, or should we bring back something?"

Molly snickered a little. "She's as bad as I am. Is this the 'we're finding a decent restaurant now' wobbly, or the 'first place that sells anything edible' wobbly?"

"The first one. Those glucose things helped."

"Okay, I’ll come with. I'll even graciously let her have shotgun~"


	3. Window Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're setting in nicely, and make an unexpected friend.

Yasha's tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth in concentration as she screwed a pair of mounting brackets to the windowsill by the living room. A small window box was propped up against the side of the house. She would have liked to have a whole flowerbed, but when she could be gone for months at a time depending on what came up at work, it wouldn't have been really practical. Asking that Beau or Molly water the flowers in her little window box wasn't too presumptuous, but asking them to look after a whole flowerbed wouldn't have been fair to them. As it was, it was lucky that there wasn't really much of a lawn to keep mowed. Although Beau had said she wouldn't mind doing that part.

Not that they had a lawnmower.

But still, the little window box and the handful of tiny potted flowers she'd gotten were more than Yasha had been able to have at the apartment, so she was content.

She was just setting the window box in place to attach it to the mounting brackets when movement near the corner of the house caught her attention. She frowned and left the window box where it was, but kept her cordless screwdriver in her hand and went to check it out. This was a much nicer neighborhood than she was used to, but old habits died hard.

But when she got around the corner she stopped and blinked. A goblin was huddled against the side of the house, partially hidden in a small bush near the back door. "...Oh. Hello," Yasha said awkwardly. One glance was enough to tell her that the goblin was alone and probably scared of her. She wasn't scared of them; Yasha's biggest problem right now was that talking to people she didn't know was not something she enjoyed. "....Are you. Um. Are you the goblin? My friends said something..."

The goblin squeaked, eying the big cordless screwdriver and Yasha's heavy work boots. Then they took a gulp from a flask, then gave a timid nod.

"...Oh. Okay." Yasha put the screwdriver down. "Do you. Um. Live nearby?"

"....I used to," the goblin said in a high, scratchy voice that suggested she was female. "Are you going to eat me?"

Yasha blinked. "...No?"

The goblin nodded again. "...You just moved in, didn't you?"

"...We did. A few days ago."

"I thought so. I'm... my name is Nott."

"...I'm Yasha."

Nott seemed encouraged, at least a little, and pointed at the cordless screwdriver. "What were you doing with that?"

Yasha smiled a little. "Putting up my window box. For flowers. I couldn't. Um. Have any before."

"Oh." Nott took another swig from her flask. "What kind of flowers?"

"I don't know their names." Yasha paused. "Do you want to see?"

"Is... is it okay? I'm a goblin."

Yasha blinked at her uncomprehendingly. "Yes?"

"That doesn't... bother you?"

Yasha blinked again. "No?"

"...Okay. If it's not a problem."

* * *

"Beau?" Molly stuck his head in the kitchen looking for her.

"Study," she said, in a muffled sounding voice.

"Oh, okay." He crossed the hall and pushed the study door open. "So, new rule~ There's a washer and dryer in the utility room, so we don't have to haul shit out to the laundromat anymore, which is _fantastic_ . I don't mind running the laundry, but we all know what happens when I try to carry things on stairs, so I'm putting one of the hampers by the washer, and if you want your shit washed, it goes in there by-" he paused and blinked as he finally realized what Beau was doing. "...Beau, _why_ are you shelving books?"

She had a stack of books she'd picked up from one of the tables that she was putting away. She grunted in annoyance. "Because we haven't got the game systems hooked up and it was _bothering_ me. Two year internship at the Cobalt Reserve will do that to you." She shoved another book into place. "Gotta give it to the owner, though, everything's like... alphabetized and shit. Makes it way easier to put stuff away." She put the last of her stack on the shelf. "What were you saying about the laundry?"

"Oh, right.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Put whatever you want me to wash in the hamper in the utility room by the end of the week and I'll wash 'em. You're on your own for folding your laundry and putting it away, though."

"Fair enough." Beau moved over to the desk and started gathering up the papers scattered across it to jog them together and put them in a drawer. "Probably better off that way, I hate doing the laundry anyway. And Yasha-"

Molly shuddered theatrically. "Oof, yes. I love her to death but the less said about that the better."

Beau kicked a rug that had gotten messed up in front of the sofa, trying to straighten it. "Yeah. It's kind of amazing. What does she do on the jobs where she's gone for two months? She doesn't own _that_ many clothes."

"For a while, she hand-washed her stuff in the sink, but now she's got one of these little portable manual washers she can fill up with a tub or a garden hose that she keeps in her truck. It's not fancy but half the time she's camping out with no electricity anyway. And then a little extendable clothesline thing."

Beau hummed as she decided the rug wasn't going to lay flat on its own, and bent down to pull it back into position. "I guess doing it the manual way would work for her stuff, it's all pretty basic and durable." Then she frowned at the rug, and pulled it up entirely. "Hey Molly. Come look at this."

He made an inquisitive noise, and came over to see what was up. "...Huh." There was a roughly arc-shaped swath across the hardwood floor that looked like it had been hastily sanded down and never refinished. Here and there along the edges of the sanded area were what looked like scorch marks. The swath itself varied between a foot and a foot and a half wide, while it seemed to cover six or seven feet in length. It wasn't centered in the room, more off to one side, and angled a bit to one side. One end of it started near the fireplace, the other stopping just short of the couch. "Wonder what caused that?"

"Something falling out of the fireplace, maybe?" Beau glanced at the sanded down area, then at the fireplace. "It's right next to the, uh, hearth, or whatever it's called."

"It's about the only thing that makes sense," Molly said slowly, looking around. Something about the arrangement of the room as a whole struck him, but it took him a couple of minutes to puzzle it out. It was the chair, he finally realized. The armchair near the fireplace, next to the table with the lamp. If it was shifted about eight inches forward and slightly to the left, it would be at nearly the focal point of the arc. He frowned, and wondered why that impression seemed significant. Without even really being sure of what he was doing, he moved forward, stepping across the sanded area with some vague idea of moving the chair.

And then, all the sudden, it was like what had happened before. Just as he reached the spot he meant to move the chair to, he felt sick and way too hot, and his balance just fucked right off. He stumbled backwards, flailing and trying to right himself but he couldn't figure out which way to _move_.

"Woah!" Beau grabbed his arm before he could fall over, then held him steady until things stopped spinning. "You okay, dude?"

Molly blinked several times to clear his head. "Mmf. Yeah. Just felt... weird. For a sec."

"Define weird."

"Felt hot all over and kind of sick, and balance, _what_ balance?" He shook his head again. "I'm fine now."

Beau studied him for a moment. "You had your meds today, yeah?"

"Yeah. It was just a... thing. And it's over now. Thanks for not letting me faceplant." He eyed the spot again, then shrugged. "So, do we tell Shakäste about this? For the damage deposit?"

"He's got to already know about it, someone sanded it down to at least start to fix it. But I guess it can't hurt."

Molly nodded. "Come on, let's go set up the video games, and then we can make Yasha come in for lunch."

* * *

Yasha was still outside, humming slightly to herself as she finished transplanting the last tiny plant into her window box. Nott had stuck around, curiously watching what she was doing and asking the odd question. It was... nice. Yasha had trouble warming up to new people, most of the time... the few exceptions being Molly, and then Beau, and Fjord and Jester. And it was starting to look like Nott fit into that category too. "Could you, um, please hand me another thing of dirt?"

There was a small bag of potting soil near her feet, with a plastic cup serving in lieu of a trowel. Nott obligingly scooped more of the potting soil into it and handed it up to Yasha.

"Thank you," she said softly, and carefully filled in the empty spaces and patted down gently. Then she stepped back from it to look at it, and nodded. "What. Um. What do you think?"

Nott nodded as well. "It's pretty. It needed flowers there." Yasha nodded, then cast about for something on the ground. "What do you need?"

"The, um. Hose. So I can water them."

"Oh." Nott promptly scrambled off to the side, where the hose was neatly coiled up near the faucet. She dragged it towards Yasha, who met her part way and was much better able to manipulate the weight. Nott turned the faucet on partway while Yasha used it to water the newly planted flowers and then washed her hands.

"Thank you," Yasha said, as she dried her hands off on her cargo pants while Nott turned the faucet back off. Then, because it was a nice day and she didn't particularly have anything that needed doing right now, she wandered back around to the front of the house to sit on the porch. Nott trailed after her, and a moment later, sat on the edge of the porch as well.

There were a few moments of companionable silence before Nott took another pull from her flask and glanced over at Yasha. "...You're nice. I'm glad you moved in." Yasha hummed and gave her a tiny smile. "Do you think you'll put more flowers up?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I'm not going to be around all the time, so. It will depend on what my roommates feel like… taking care of."

Nott blinked at her a little, and started to say something, but was interrupted by a meow from under the porch, and a lean, ginger cat emerged to rub against Nott's legs and plant its front paws on her knees to gently headbutt her. "Frumpkin," she said in a tiny, awed voice. Almost hesitantly, she reached out to scratch behind the cat's ears. The cat rewarded her with a practically thunderous purr.

"Is, um, is that your cat?" Yasha watched, entranced, as the cat climbed up on the porch to settle awkwardly in Nott's lap; it wasn’t that much smaller than she was.

"...No. Not mine. Frumpkin is...You're renting, right? Frumpkin's the owner's cat."

Yasha blinked. "The owner didn't take their cat with them?"

The cat headbutted Nott again, then wandered over to investigate Yasha. "Well, it's... mmm... they don't allow pets there. And Frumpkin's good at not being found when he doesn't want to be. I think he refused to leave..." Frumpkin climbed up into Yasha's lap, rubbing against her and purring. "I think he likes you."

"...He's a nice cat," Yasha admitted, petting him as she automatically scooped him up. He kneaded against her arm as she did, making a contented noise.

Nott tugged at her hair in a nervous gesture. "Could you- I mean, you don't have to adopt him, he's pretty good at taking care of himself, but could you just.... look after him?"

Yasha bit her lip. "Well, I'll do my best. It'll depend on what my roommates say."

"That's fine." She looked back at the house behind them with a look of longing so intense that Yasha almost said something about it. Then she shook her head and hopped off the porch. "I should be going. Thanks for letting me help you plant flowers, Yasha."

Before Yasha could respond, she heard the back door opening, and Molly call out. "Yasha~! Come help me convince Beau that pineapple on pizza is not an abomination before all the gods~"

"I'll be right there," she called back. Then she turned to ask Nott if she wanted to join them for pizza; she didn't think Molly or Beau would mind too much.

But Nott was already gone.


	4. Pet Policy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new friend comes to stay and promptly makes himself at home. Guest starring everyone's favorite leetle blue tiefling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you guys seem to be enjoying this. I deeply appreciate all the notes I've gotten so far, it really helps me keep going.

“So, we have a cat now,” Molly said, looking down at the cat calmly lapping water out of the bowl Yasha had put down with a bemused expression. “Okay.”

“Nott said his name is Frumpkin,” Yasha said softly. “She asked if we could keep an eye on him.”

“Nott?” Molly frowned at that. There was something about the name that nagged at him, that felt vaguely familiar. But he couldn’t place it.

“The goblin,” Yasha said. “She said she used to live around here.”

“Huh.” Beau bent down to pet Frumpkin, who purred and coiled around her ankles affectionately. “Never figured a goblin would half-adopt a stray, but I guess you learn something every day. There wasn’t anything about pets in the lease paperwork, but-”

“He belongs to the owner of the house,” Yasha interrupted as Frumpkin trilled and pushed at her leg. She obligingly picked him up and cuddled him to her chest. “At least, that’s what Nott said. She said they couldn’t take him with them, and that she thought Frumpkin refused to leave…”

Beau scowled. “The asshole just fucking… _abandoned_ their cat?”

Yasha made a thoughtful noise as Frumpkin settled in her arms, purring loudly. “The way Nott said it sounded like they didn’t have much choice. Wherever they went, pets aren’t allowed.”

Molly snorted. “Probably someone put gramma or grampa in a nursing home and didn’t give a fuck about the cat…” Frumpkin made a protesting noise and Molly came over to give him skritches behind the ears. “Guess this explains all the cat stuff in the garage…” He grinned as Frumpkin batted at the charms dangling from his horns. “So we don’t have to go out and buy toys and a scratching post and such.”

Yasha smiled hopefully. “You really don’t mind if we keep him?”

“Of course not, darling.” Molly leaned over to kiss the edge of her jaw. “And anyway, if Nott’s right, this is already Frumpkin’s home~”

Beau nodded. “He’s a cute little shit. And cats aren’t as… uh… _high energy_ as dogs. When I roomed with Jester, Nugget was always bouncing off the walls… almost got us caught by the RA four fucking times. But a cat I can handle.”

* * *

“Molly?” Yasha peeked into his room before nodding and coming in. Then she paused. “What’s the matter?” He was standing in the middle of his room, with a puzzled expression and looking thoughtfully around the artistic chaos he preferred to live in. 

“Hm?” He glanced back at her and shrugged. “I just… do you smell something burning?”

She sniffed experimentally. “No?”

He shook his head. “Guess it could be my imagination…. But I thought I smelled smoke.”

She glanced at his incense burner and shrugged. “Did you use a match for your incense? I know they smell like burning even if they’re out…”

“No. Lighter’s easier.” But he double checked his incense burner. “Hn.”

“Well, we did turn the heat on, sometimes dust settles on the heating coils and burns off…”

“That must be what it was. Anyway, it’s gone now. What’s up?”

Oh right. She’d come here for a reason. “Jester’s on the video call…”

He brightened immediately. “Oh~! Well, we certainly can’t keep a lady waiting~!” He grinned, gave her a quick hug in passing, and darted into the living room.

_“-so the architecture in Emon is like, totally amazeballs you guys~!”_ Jester gushed, bouncing up and down in her seat and sublimely unaware she’d knocked her webcam askew. _“There’s a super old temple of the Everlight here that’s amaaaaaaaaaazing, and it’s got this super badass stained glass window! I painted it three times!”_

Beau choked a little. “Now, when you say _paint-_ ”

Jester giggled. _“I mean, I did paint like seven dicks on the wall. But they’re not like super uptight about it here, like they are in Zadash. The head cleric caught me- she’s this super pretty gnome and holy shit she’s even stronger than Yasha- but she just scolded me and made me clean it up. And not with cantrips, like with soap and water. And then she said if I was going to keep doing this kind of bullshit, not to do it at the temple of the Raven Queen in Whitestone when I go, because it was a memorial for the Baroness of Whitestone’s brother and that would be mean.” She waved brightly. “Hi Molly! Hi Yasha! Anyway, I’ve done two canvases of the temple itself, and then one smaller one of the window, I can’t wait to show you guys~!”_

Molly draped himself over Yasha’s shoulder. “You’re going to have to buy more luggage to get all your paintings home~”

_“I know, isn’t it great~?”_ She grinned. _“So, is that the new house you guys told me about?”_

Yasha nodded. “It is. We’re still getting settled. But it’s… nice.”

“It really is. We’ve all got bedrooms and shit. There’s enough room for you and Fjord, too, once you come back. I’m going to make a video walkthrough for you if Desmond lets me borrow his camcorder,” Molly said, his tail swishing. 

_“Ohmigosh, that would be so cool~!”_ She clapped her hands. _“I can’t wait!”_

“I think you’ll like-” Beau cut off as Frumpkin elected to scale her, climbing up her jeans and up her back to settle on her shoulder. “Whoa. Okay. Hi.” Awkwardly, she reached over her shoulder to pet him.

Jester squealed. _“Oh my god, you guys got a cat! They’re adorable! Is it a boy cat or a girl cat?! Do they have a name? What kind are they? Where did you get them?!”_

“His name is Frumpkin,” Yasha said, reaching around Beau to pet him. Which led to a most interesting color change in Beau’s face that somehow Yasha didn’t see.

“He was kind of a stray that we picked up,” Molly said, snickering a little. “Ancestry probably dubious~” Frumpkin made an offended sound, and pointedly turned away from Molly to groom one paw.

“He is orange,” Yasha supplied helpfully.

_“Aaah, he looks so fuzzy! When I get back I will cuddle him so hard!”_

Molly laughed. “Speaking of, how’s the rest of your trip looking?”

_“I’ve got two more weeks here in Emon, then I want to spend a week in Vasselheim, and after that Mama gave me an introduction to some people in Whitestone and Pike- that’s the cleric I told you about- said there’s a bakery there I should try~ And I want to get back to Nicodranis in time for Winter’s Crest. Other than that, who the fuck knows~!”_

Beau grinned as she shifted Frumpkin off her shoulder. “That’s our Jester. Heard from Fjord?”

Jester’s face dropped the tiniest bit. _“Well, he sent a couple of letters, I guess when they were in port, but I guess it’s kind of hard to email or video out in the middle of the ocean.”_

“Probably. We’ve gotten one letter, something about an expedition to scout some kind of famous wreck.”

_“Ooh, yeah, he told me about that too! He was super excited~! I’m going to try to see if we can come back together~ It would be awesome if we could all do Winter’s Crest at Mama's~”_

Molly blinked. “Not complaining, I’d love to go, but is your mom going to be okay with that?”

_“Sure, silly~! Mama would love to meet you guys~! She says I talk about you so much she already feels like you’re part of the family~”_ Then she glanced down and frowned. _“Oh shit, I’ve got to go, my battery is about to die. But I love you guys, I’ll talk to you later~!”_

“Love you, Jes,” Beau said affectionately.

* * *

Beau was sitting cross-legged on the couch meditating. Or trying to at least. It was her day off, and Yasha had taken Molly to work and had some errands to run, so Beau had the house to herself. She thought it would be easier with the place quiet, but she just couldn’t get in the right mindset. She was restless, and even lighting one of her little tealights- something Dairon had suggested ages ago to give her a point to focus on- didn’t help. 

Eventually, she gave it up and found the book she’d been reading. Frumpkin had been chilling on the couch with her, but the candle Beau hadn’t bothered to put out made him sneeze, and he got down to amuse himself by playing hockey on the floor with the cap from Beau’s water bottle. The sound of plastic sliding on the wooden floor could have been really irritating, but somehow, it just faded into the background. 

It was a _really_ good book, and with no outside distractions, she lost track of the time. It took Frumpkin making a frustrated noise at her feet to make her look up. He was trying to reach a paw under the sofa with little success, and a moment later, he meowed at her pathetically. “Lost your toy under the couch, didn’t you?” She scratched behind his ears. “You’re telling me you can’t fit under there?” Frumpkin meowed at her again, and pawed at her arm. “Okay. But only because you’re cute. And if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.” She got up and stretched, feeling her back pop. Then she grabbed the arm of the couch to shift it. It was a big, unwieldy piece of furniture, but it wasn’t _that_ heavy. She was able to swing it away from the wall easily. 

The bottle cap evidently wasn’t the first toy Frumpkin had lost under the couch. In addition to that, there were also two little stuffed catnip mice, three shiny metal buttons, and innumerable little wadded up balls of paper. And a _book_.

Beau raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected. From what she’d seen, the owner had been particular about taking care of their books, if not putting them away. She didn’t quite get how they’d managed to lose one under the couch. Unless it was just they couldn’t move the couch to get it back. Though that didn’t explain how it got back there in the _first_ place. She swept all the miscellaneous cat toys out, then picked the book up curiously. It was a smallish leatherbound book that had seen a lot of wear; the corners were fluffed out, and it looked like there were marks from tiny, sharp teeth in the cover. JOURNAL was prominently stamped on the cover. She opened it to the first page. 

As she did, there was a pop and the flame of her little candle flared high as it reached some sort of flaw in the wick, then it sputtered out. She refused to admit it had made her jump, and looked back at the journal. There were two names written on the first page, but the first had been crossed out so heavily there was no hope of reading it. The second name was legible though. “Caleb Widogast? Huh…” She set it aside, then went to move the couch back into position. That made her balance lurch a little, and she suddenly realized she’d been sitting here for four hours and her blood sugar was trying to do something fucking stupid. 

“Okay okay okay. It’s definitely lunch time. You coming?” She headed into the kitchen to find something to eat, carrying the journal with her. Frumpkin just stayed by the couch and slowly blinked amber eyes at her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jester Lavorre did, in fact, successfully hide a large breed dog she absolutely wasn't allowed to have in her dorm room for two semesters. *Somehow.*


	5. Fucking Flareups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's not having a great day, and could use something to take his mind off it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! Sorry for the delay. Between the ongoing existential crisis that is the last year and a half and other things, haven't had the time or the energy to do much writing. I promise nothing in terms of reliability of future updates but this story is NOT dead.

Oh. Oh _fuck_.

Molly hissed as he abruptly found himself awake. Oh, this was _not_ going to be a good day, he could already tell. The bed was nice and all, but even still, it felt like all of the springs had gone and were jabbing into him. He gingerly rolled over, but that only made it worse. Everything _hurt._ He desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but that pretty clearly wasn’t going to happen. Not here, anyway.

Gods only knew what time it was.

If Yasha wasn’t on the second floor, he’d have gone to try to curl up with her. Better than a hotpack, sometimes. But there was no way he was going to make it up the stairs. He could barely make it out of _bed._

The sofa in the study had been reasonably comfortable. He might be able to go back to sleep if he- It took ten minutes to manage to get to his feet and steady himself and get his robe on. Beau would either have a coronary or murder him if he wasn’t wearing something… Honestly, he was kind of hoping for the latter right now. 

Fucking flareups. 

It took him a while to make it into the study, and he practically fell onto the sofa. At least he’d been right, it didn’t prod at him the way the bed did right now. Maybe if he got some more sleep, it would ease off… He curled up in the least painful position he could find and tried to go back to sleep. 

There was a slight shift as Frumpkin carefully climbed up on the sofa next to him, then settled into a compact loaf against his chest and started to purr. It was the first time Frumpkin had elected to snuggle with him; as far as Molly knew, the cat stayed out of the bedrooms. 

But it seemed to help, and Molly drifted off in short order.

* * *

_It was just dark outside, but the lamp and the fireplace provided plenty of light. A scruffy looking ginger in a worn knit sweater was sitting in the chair nearby, reading. That wasn’t surprising. He practically radiated librarian or perhaps literature teacher. There was a coffee cup near his elbow with paw prints and cartoon drawings of cats on it. There was something so relaxing about it, and the way the quiet was only broken by the occasional turn of a page._

_Then there was a noise outside the room, and he looked up, startled. His eyes were very blue. “Nott?”_

_A step in the hall, and then a gaunt, balding man in a dark suit and a long beard entered the room and smiled hideously._

_Pure panic and the sound of a chair being shoved violently back and shattering ceramic-_

* * *

Molly shot awake, gasping for breath. “What the fuck,” he mumbled to himself. “What the fuck was that.” It wasn’t that he didn’t have nightmares; it was just that his nightmares were of a viscerally different character. Usually involving rainy nights and screeching brakes and mud coming in the windows- But there hadn’t even been anything that disturbing about that dream. Even if he was fully convinced the second man in the dream was an evil motherfucker. The dream had ended before it even got further than his appearance…

Frumpkin was still sharing the couch with him, but staring at him without blinking. Likely annoyed at having been woken up so unceremoniously. After a moment, he stretched and yawned, and jumped down to wander off.

Well, at least he’d gotten a little more sleep before the fucked up dream woke him up. The sun was up, anyway, and it might actually be a decent hour. But everything still hurt enough that he wasn’t going to be doing much if _anything_ today. He fumbled around for his phone- thank gods he’d remembered to bring it with him so he didn’t have to go find it in this state. It was after ten, and he sighed as he carefully scrolled to Gustav’s number. Rather than holding the phone up, he elected to just wedge it under his ear where it was still pressed against the couch.

“...Gustav? ‘S Molly. … Yeah. One of-” He hissed involuntarily as his tail shifted. “One of those days. I can’t- … Yeah. Okay. Tell Ornna ‘m sorry? … Yeah, Me too. Thanks…” After a moment, the phone beeped to tell him the call had ended. He sighed, then winced as he rubbed his face.

_Fucking. Flareups._

* * *

He hadn’t been at all into the idea of food, and after getting on just enough clothes to be decent, had slowly migrated around the house from one spot to another until he ended up on the porch swing, basking in the sun with his eyes closed. He hadn’t thought it would be comfortable enough to stay put for long, but he was pleasantly surprised. 

“You look like shit,” someone said in front of him.

“I feel like shit.” He cracked one eye open to see the goblin they’d seen around peering at him from the porch steps. “Hey. Nott, wasn’t it?” She nodded. “Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to my friends, and we are friends now, aren’t we?” She made an incredulous noise but didn’t contradict him. “You’ll have to excuse me for not inviting you in, that would require moving and I do not vibe with that idea right now.”

“I couldn’t go in anyway,” she said, settling on the steps. “Are you okay? You look… really bad.”

“Well, it’s definitely not optimal but it could absolutely be worse.” 

“Yeah. You could be dead.” She wasn’t looking at him, just fiddling with a string of buttons around her neck. 

And that was absolutely true, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. “What brings you around?”

“I wanted to say hi to Frumpkin and look at Yasha’s flowers.”

“Well, Yasha had to go somewhere, but I expect she’d be pleased to know you wanted to look at her flowers. As for Frumpkin-” The cat in question chose that moment to nose the door open; Molly hadn’t bothered to shut it all the way when he’d come out. Frumpkin stretched, then put his front paws on Molly’s knee to drop something in his lap. Then he wandered over to rub against Nott, purring like a furry little engine. Puzzled, he looked down to see what Frumpkin had brought him. 

Then his eyebrow went up and he stared at the bottle of pain meds he was holding, then turned to stare at the cat incredulously. “Okay, that’s either the freakiest of coincidences or that cat is way too godsdamn smart.”

“Frumpkin’s super smart. What is it?”  
  


“My pain meds. Which I really did need and really did not want to go get.” Shaking his head, he popped one of the pills into his mouth and swallowed it dry. “Freaky coincidence or whatever, I’ll take it.”

Nott hummed, apparently all of her focus on petting Frumpkin. “He’s good at stuff like that.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He gave her a ghost of a grin. “Yasha said you used to live around here. Any juicy neighborhood gossip~? Scandals, petty feuds, local legends, that one creepy neighbor at the end of the street that all the kids are always afraid of?”

Nott glared at him, which did a good job at being terrifying considering she was a goblin and had a goblin's _teeth_. “If there was anyone like that, it was us,” she said crossly.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything by it, those stories are always full of bullshit, that’s the whole trope. The creepy old dude at the end of the block that turns out to be super cool.”

Nott muttered something under her breath that sounded disparaging and affectionate at the same time. “We mostly kept to ourselves. Keg and Cali next door are nice. That’s about all I know.” She sat down on the porch to let Frumpkin carefully curl up in her lap. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Molly shrugged minutely. “I feel like the gods themselves have used me for a piñata. Flareup. It happens.”

She blinked a little. “Flareup?”

He nodded, and gingerly tapped a gouge in his left horn. “Head injury two years ago, with what they tactfully called ‘long-term complications.’” Normally, he’d have spun a more impressive tale, but he just didn’t feel up to it today. He _did_ leave out the part where he’d been legally dead for nine minutes. “One of which is sometimes everything hurts like a motherfucker.” Frumpkin chirped, headbutted Nott gently, then got out of her lap to climb into Molly’s, where he settled down, purring. Molly blinked. “...I could swear you’re doing that on purpose.”

“Frumpkin is super smart,” Nott repeated. “And the owner had problems with things hurting too. Frumpkin knows what to do.”

“Huh. I’ll take it,” Molly said after a moment. The purring really _did_ seem to help.

“...I’m glad you’re looking after him,” Nott said quietly. “I was worried.”

“Well, Yasha’s fallen in love with the little thing, and I think Beau’s not far behind~” He carefully scratched behind the cat behind the ears. “And even I have to admit he grows on you.”

“He really does,” and for a moment, Nott’s face was pure wistful yearning. “I miss him.”

That got a slight eyebrow raise. “Not complaining because we like having him around, but how come you didn’t take Frumpkin when his owner left him behind?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t. He didn't… he belongs _here_. And he knows that.” She sighed. “And I didn’t know where he’d gone at first.”

“Well, I don’t think any of us mind you coming to visit… Maybe next time I’ll be able to invite you in for one of Beau’s beers.”

“Beau’s?” Nott raised her own eyebrow. “Why are you offering me your roommate’s booze?”

“Well, I can’t have any so it’s not mine~”

“Uh huh.” That got him a skeptical look, but she didn’t press it. “I won’t be able to, but thanks for the offer anyway.”

* * *

“Hey, Yasha?” Beau was in the hallway, still holding her gym bag and frowning at the study. Yasha looked up from the game she was playing with Frumpkin involving a feather on a stick with an inquisitive noise. “Did you pull a bunch of books off the shelves in here?”

“No? I’ve been gone most of the day…”

“Well, they’re all over the place and I know I put them away once already. Do you think Molly-?”

“...I’m not saying he wouldn’t,” Yasha allowed. It was the kind of harmless thing he’d do when he wanted to be irritating. “But today’s been one of his bad days. He spent the entire day on the porch swing.” Until she’d gotten home and put him to bed.

“Huh.” Beau shook her head. “I guess it doesn’t matter that much…” Then she frowned again, and made for a corner by the fireplace. Curiously, Yasha followed. Beau picked up something. “Now how did I miss that?” She was holding a thick fragment of ceramic bearing what appeared to be part of a paw print.

“Looks like part of a coffee mug,” Yasha said after a moment. 

“Yeah… I guess they missed it when they cleaned the place, it looks like it’s been there for a long time.” She wiped some of the thick dust off with her thumb, and grimaced. “Weird. The rest of the house was pretty clean.”

“Well, you missed it the first time…”

“That’s true. I’ll clean up in here later. Right now I’m starving.”


End file.
